


Just Another Job

by Spastic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 00:17:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2088483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spastic/pseuds/Spastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Dean and You have been called in to help with a local legend that has been shredding victims.  Just another job, but close quarters and dangerous escapes have all three of you wound a bit too tight; how long can the three of you tease and fluster each other before one of you gives in to temptation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story I have ever completed or posted to the public, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated--I'm not 100% with where I will take this story yet, though I do have a good portion of it mapped out. My biggest peeve is the boys not being in character, so any comments on their characterization would be awesome! Rating is for gore/violence and steamy scenes with you and the boys....I promise they aren't all in your head ;)

CHAPTER 1

 

The sound of water slapping porcelain hid your slight moan as you furiously rubbed yourself, (almost) silently begging for release as quickly as possible; images of the two gorgeous men not 10 feet away running through your mind. In your mind's eye you hear the door click open, the shower curtain pushed to the side and feel someone slide into the shower behind you. Strong hands slip over your breasts from behind, teasing your nipples through the soapy bubbles. You feel a hot mouth caress your neck, starting just behind your ear and slowly sliding down to the pulse point where it nips gently, then sucks not so gently, leaving a red welt to mark the occasion. One masculine hand wanders down your abdomen, settling between your legs as you grind your hips backwards towards the rock hard flesh pressing into your lower back……

'Jeez, we've been stuck out here for way too long,' you think to yourself; 'A girl can only take so much without five minutes to herself to relieve some pressure'. 

The three of you had been 'hiding out' in an old one room cabin somewhere in the Smokey Mountains for the last two weeks, nursing your wounds after a particularly nasty run in with a nest of Vamps. Not quite as bad as the incident 6 months ago that inaugurated your friendship with two 'rough around the edges' brothers, but the three of you were beat up badly enough to warrant a bit of a respite; especially since Cas wasn't checking his voicemail this month. 

The first few days of the self imposed house arrest had gone by quickly, helping each other change bandages and toasting pain pills with whatever cheap alcohol was grabbed at the Sip and Go a few miles out. Initially, sleeping arrangements rotated: the two sorest sharing the king-sized hide a bed, with the third snoozing on the love seat alone. By the beginning of the second week, however, the boys had insisted that you always occupy one side of the sofa bed, and they alternated each night on the other half. You could swear you had awoken on the love seat the morning before the new rule to the quickly stifled sounds of a 'morning wood' argument, but the boys had quickly changed the subject and refused to speak of it again. They had tried convincing you to take the bed alone, but threatening to sleep on the floor instead had shut them up. There was nothing sexual about it, you had always considered yourself 'one of the guys', so why should now be any different? You were all sore from one laceration or huge bruise or another, no reason you should get special treatment because you happen to have boobs. It's not like there were spooning sessions. Besides, it wasn't like you hadn't spent the odd night snuggling with one or the other brother (or on one really odd occasion, both) in the back of the Impala, sometimes whilst the odd man out drove, or sometimes all three of you would be passed out in the boat of a car, usually with the guys leaning on a window and you snuggled comfortably on one of their shoulders. 

From the get go you'd had an easy camaraderie with the brothers, like you were the younger sister they never had. You and Dean always had a habit of twisting things around or snickering at the slightest nod towards something with a double entendre, usually to Sam's chagrin. Sam was just as bad, though he usually just smirked at you and Dean like he had some secret he wasn't sharing. Over the past few months, the dirty quips had evolved into a competition that involved practical jokes amongst the trio, and eventually devolved into a tendency for you and Dean to try to fluster each other-which was wildly encouraged by Sam. He said he was happy to have Dean's tricks and jabs aimed at someone other than him for a change, that it allowed him to be himself a little more, and to have some personal space that had at times been lacking when he was the only target for his attention demanding brother. You had simply shrugged and grinned at the time, not really reading too deeply into it, just happy to be living in the moment and having fun for the first time in a very long time. Sure, you were happy to have the attention and friendship of two amazingly handsome men who had brought you out of a place inside yourself you never wished to visit again, but there was always that twinge at the back of your head that warned you of developing anything beyond brotherly love for the pair. That never worked out for you in the past, always being relegated to unrequited love or being stabbed in the back by the people you considered closest to you. It was just easier to joke and tease, hiding any serious feelings behind a wall of swagger. Something Sam had more than once pointed out was like having a female version of his brother to deal with. 

"Alright Princess, daylight's burning-time to hit the road. Finish up in there!" Dean hollered as he banged loudly on the bathroom door, startling you out of your lust filled haze, the sudden movement sending suds cascading into your eyes. 

"OW! Damn it Dean, your 40 minute shower adventure is the reason I've got barely lukewarm water to use. I've only been in here ten minutes anyway, go watch some Anime porn" you shout back angrily. At least he hadn't knocked before you were able to 'take care of business'. Shaking your head, you finish rinsing your hair then shut the water off, turning the knobs a bit too hard in frustration and nearly causing yourself to loose your balance in the slippery tub. 

Dean grumbled to himself about no appreciation for an art form, headed towards his duffle on the rumpled sofa bed to finish packing his things (and search for his Busty Asian Beauties magazine). 

"She's right, you know," Sam snickered, glancing at his brother over his laptop screen. "You should really do that in the closet or your car or something……"

"Shut up. Like you don't do the same". Dean retorted, quickly glancing at the tiny pantry across the cabin questionably before glaring at Sam and shaking his head. "Wait a second…. Did you defile Baby?" Dean looked positively aghast at the thought. 

Sam smirked and turned back to his laptop, digging a little further into the job that was to get them back on the road, and hopefully blowing off steam beating the crap out of bad guys again.  
'With any luck there will be a seedy bar in that town for all of us to get a little action and/or alone time.' 

They had caught wind of a mauling in Lee County, South Carolina with reports claiming the attacker had scales and had chewed the bumper off of a car. An old cop friend of Bobby's had called for assistance, and It was only a few hours drive, so it had been unanimously agreed the night before that everyone was healed up enough for a bit of an investigation. 

"It's a swamp, don't they have gators there? I don't feel like being Animal Control for a bunch of Yee-Haws," grumbled Dean, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder. "I'll be waiting in the car." He left the door open, heading towards their home on wheels. 

You finish applying a small bit of eyeliner and mascara (Traveling with the boys, you quickly realized any more makeup than that tends to get grungy by the time you next visit a mirror, no matter how good the makeup quality) and head out of the bathroom, zipped duffle in hand and ready to embark on an adventure. "Who pissed in his cheerios this morning?" You quip to Sam, who put his laptop away at your entrance, eager to get going as well. 

"He still hasn't figured out you swiped his porn," Sam chuckled. "Why do you think he took so long in the bathroom?" 

You flash Sam a devilish smile and wink, and swagger out the door to join the older Winchester. 

'Wow, she really is Dean with tits' thinks Sam, still chuckling to himself, as he follows you out the door. 'Does that make looking at her ass incest?' Sam shudders, though even HE has to admit both halves of the gender bender have pretty nice asses.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lets see what we're hunting......

CHAPTER 2

The drive was relaxing, cool air blowing through the open windows, all three of you singing along to a classic rock playlist for the majority of the ride. When you had started traveling with the boys, Dean was thrilled to find your ipod was dominated by the songs he tended to play on max volume, and Sam was happy he allowed most of the non classic rock songs to play through as well. Sam wasn't sure if Dean actually liked the songs, or was just being nice to their new 'kid sister', but he wasn't going to complain about the variance in tunes. That is until about 2 months ago, when he roused from a nap during a 14 hour drive to you and Dean duetting 'Time of My Life' from Dirty Dancing. Not that you two didn't do the song justice, but Sam wasn't about to let his big brother get away with crooning a sappy song from a Swayze movie. He did, however, wait until the song was over to start making fun. 

"….ok Carl, we just rolled into town…sounds good, we'll meet you there." Sam hung up his phone and turned to Dean, "There's a diner about 5 minutes from the Sheriff's office, Carl said he'd meet us there with the crime scene photos". 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You smirk to yourself as you enter Gino's Italian Diner and follow the boys to a booth towards the back of the restaurant; what was it with little themed diners? They really go all out setting an atmosphere. The tables were a red and white checkered pattern, adorned with fake wine bottle candlestick lights and jars filled with breadsticks; cheesy italian music played softly in the background. Sam slid into the booth next to Carl, while you and Dean piled into the opposite bench. 

"Howdy Boys, long time no see. What's it been, 15 years since your Dad and Bobby helped me out with that werewolf issue? And who is your lovely traveling companion?" Carl greeted, shaking hands with each brother then extending a hand towards you as well. 

You smile warmly at Carl and accept the grandfatherly man's handshake while Dean responds "Yeah, sounds about right. This is [you], she saved our asses about 6 months ago and kind of stuck. So what are we looking at this time?" 

"Well, I originally thought it was just kids playing on the local legend, started with small stuff: missing cats, an odd footprint or two down by the lake, stuff we see every year. Then a few weeks ago some kid turns up pretty scraped up with one hell of a story to boot. Seemed scared enough that even if it was just a prank, something needed to be done to prevent it from escalating". 

"Ok, so whats the story?" says Dean, perusing the menu. 

"Well, Legend has it……"

"Hello folks, what can I get for you this afternoon?" A pretty petite brunette with the lightest blue eyes you've ever seen interrupts Carl. 

"Why hello there…Cheryl! What do you recommend?" Dean enthusiastically replies, after glancing a little too long at the name tag residing on her ample bosom. 

"We are famous for our spaghetti and meatballs", she replies with a wide smile, obviously buying into Dean hook line and sinker. 

Dean glances around, "As much as I'd love to share pasta with a cocker spaniel, I was hoping for something a little more….burgery?" 

Cheryl makes a completely clueless face as you and Sam snicker at the Disney reference, then "We do have a great Pizzaburger if you're interested". 

"Sounds delicious, sign me up," Dean eagerly agreed, sending Cheryl another thousand watt smile. Dean doesn't notice the small glare you send Cheryl's way before caching yourself and schooling your face into something a bit more appropriate, but Sam sure does, raising an eyebrow and miming a cats claw that only you could see. You spare him an even nastier glare, and he just smirks as Cheryl finally seems to realize there are other customers at the table. 

Once everyone's orders are in, and Cheryl manages to tear herself away from the pretty boy sitting next to you, Carl continues with his story: 

"Ok, so back in the 80's there were a rash of, well lets say 'animal attacks', that got progressively worse. A few people went missing, most just ended up with some really odd vehicular damage--I'm talking chewed through bumpers and some pretty nasty looking claw marks, and a couple fishermen got clawed up pretty bad. Law enforcement at the time mostly told everyone there was a bear going after food, and just to stay indoors and keep food put away, but eventually the stories spurned an urban legend about the swamps just southeast of here." 

"Yeah, I read about that, the Lizard Man of Scape Ore Swamp, right?" Sam chimed in. 

"Lizard Man?" Dean repeated skeptically. 

"That'd be the one," answered Carl.

"The lore says the attacks happen from February through November, then go dormant for a few months before starting up again, right?" you chime in. 

"Sam, tell me you didn't already turn her into a research monkey" cringes Dean, glancing between you and Sam. 

"He did nothing of the sort, I actually enjoy reading up on what kind of monster we might be encountering." Sam grins at you, and you return in kind. 

"Anyways," Carl spares a confused glance toward each of you before continuing, "….you're correct about the pattern, only the really nasty stuff only happens every ten to twelve years or so. I'm pretty sure the minimal stuff in between is just kids playing pranks, or people trying to drum up sales for the Swamp Monster memorabilia. It's become quite the tourist trap." 

"Its already November though, aren't you a bit late on the call if you want us to get rid of this thing? If it goes into hibernation or whatever it would be almost impossible to find the thing somewhere in a swamp with no human breadcrumbs to follow" Sam remarks, you nod in agreement, noticing Dean's disgusted grimace, which quickly turns into an eager grin as he spies his Pizzaburger making its way towards him. You would swear you saw a bit of drool too, before he cleared his throat and thanked Cheryl for the grub. 

""I was still pretty low on the chain of command when the last round of nasty stuff came up in the late 90's, and the old timers pretty much just chalked it up to kids playing pranks and the errant bear. Since then things have been pretty quiet. I thought we got off easy again this year, it had mostly only been little things this time around, except for that kid. Then a group of hunters went in to the swamp last week and never came back out. At least… mostly," Carl stated as he brought out the crime scene photos. The pictures were of barely recognizable human remains: some entrails, the stump of an arm with one or two fingers left on it, a few chunks of what may have been an african american's backside, and half of a boot filled with a little over half of a foot. "They set out on a day trip Saturday, wives still hadn't heard from them by Monday so we sent out some search teams. Found some of their equipment and dragged the surrounding water, came up with that. Those men go turkey hunting every fall. They knew what they were doing, and were well armed. Our official story is a gator attack, but I've never seen a gator turn 4 men into that. Also, theres the claw marks on the arm--three to be exact. They were deep too, so unless we've got a gator that's missing a few digits, I'm inclined to think our swamp creature has made a return." 

"Ok, so I guess our first stop is the survivor," Sam volunteered. "[You], you and I can go talk to him, Dean why don't you head to the morgue with Carl, see what you can see". 

"Man, why do I have to do the remains? I just ate." Grumbled Dean. 

"How about you go with Sam and I'll take the fleshy bits-medical training and all," you volunteer. You'd always seen yourself as more of the Scully in this supernatural trio anyway, and you DID ace all your biology and anatomy courses in school. 

"Sold! I knew we kept you around for a reason," chorused Dean, smiling happily at you. 

"Alright, whatever," sighed Sam. "We'll pick you up as soon as we're done interviewing the kid". 

You glance up to see what's keeping the overly cheery waitress from delivering the bill, catching a glimpse of her across the diner. Still annoyed by Dean's flirtatious tendencies, you can't help but be a bit overly scrutinizing of her appearance. Her skin is way too tan, like she spends every spare moment at a tanning booth or something. She glances your way and the light hits her eyes in such a way that they seem to almost glow red for a moment, mimicking the red retinal reflection you'd seen on your sister's blue eyed cat when you were young. 'Huh, creepy. Glad I don't have creepy cornstarch blue eyes.' Cheryl catches your eye and smiles, heading towards the table with the bill in hand. 

"I hope you all enjoyed your meals, it was a pleasure meeting you….." she flashes a perfect smile at Dean while hinting for his name, which he all too eagerly supplies. You shove past him out of the booth headed toward the ladies room. You know you are acting childish, but you really can't help it. The last two weeks had been just the three of you, and while no lines were crossed, or even hinted towards, it had really felt like the three of you had bonded a bit more. Especially you and Dean. The nagging voice in the back of your head can't help but lecture you on how once again you let yourself get your hopes up, only to be left in the dust the second something prettier comes along. 'Not that creepy eyes is prettier than me or anything. Not by a longshot. Besides, Sam is just as good looking as Dean, and a lot easier to get on with. And anyway, I don't like them like that.' 

You don't see Dean's eyes immediately dismiss the cheery waitress, and follow you until the bathroom door swings shut and hides you from his gaze. Nor do you see the knowing smirk Sam directs towards Dean while he watches you walk away. None of you notice Cheryl's eyes flare red again, this time for quite a bit longer than a millisecond.


End file.
